


We Only Wanted to Protect

by Onamonapiedia



Series: The Fall of the Golden Age [1]
Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Death, Depressing as shit, F/M, Gen, Golden Age, Reflection, Sorrow, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onamonapiedia/pseuds/Onamonapiedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Pitchiner's second in command reflects on his life in service to a great man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Only Wanted to Protect

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the formatting got deleted from this when I submitted it. The original is a much more visual experience than what's posted here. But I still think it came out pretty well, so enjoy.
> 
> Also this is really depressing. Seriously, I almost cried writing it.

We thought we were doing _Good_.  We thought that hunting the Monsters down would keep us _safe_ , keep everyone _safe_.  We never thought it would come to _this_.  Even when we discovered that their Spirits had _survived_ , _warped_ and _t_ _wi s_ _te d_ beyond even the cruelty of Beasts, we just saw it as another **Battle** , another **War** to be _Won_.  We were **Soldiers** ; it was our **Duty**.  Each day we _trained_ and _prepared_ , doing anything we could to ready ourselves for the inevitable **Conflict**.   All we wanted to do was _protect_.  But every day we would hear about how another colony was _~~attacked~~_ , another constellation _ra_ _va_ _ge_ _d_ , another star _extinguished forever_.  We held together as family members were _lost_ , and comrades _killed_ ; always **Strong** in the _Belief_ that we were doing _Right_.

 

 _I_ didn’t have anything to _lose_ coming into the **War** ( **the Shadow Wars** they called it, those little weak men, sitting up in their ivory towers, sipping tea and complaining of the atmosphere beyond tinted glass).  I had already _lost_ my family a long time ago.  Being a **Soldier** was better than being Destitute, wandering the streets for something to eat, nowhere to go when the **Darkness** came.  The **War** was my e _scape_.  I never expected to _Survive_ … at least, not this long.  I was _lucky_ they said; I didn’t have anything to _lose_.  _I_ was one of the _few_.

 

The General wasn’t so _lucky_.

 

He wasn’t a General when we first met, of course, just a Second Lieutenant in charge of a small platoon.  But the Nobles do get promoted quickly don’t they (I just never expected him to bring me along when it happened).  _He_ was the one who convinced me to join him in the end, when his **Soldiers** came _marching_ through that planet-bound settlement we all were sure the Nobles had forgotten long ago, _swearing_ to do away with the Minotaur that plagued our village, _promising_ us _protection_.  How could I _not_ follow him?  He really was their little Golden Boy, the Noble who left his gleaming estate and the promise of a comfy seat in the Tsar’s court to trudge around a **Battlefield** ; _abandoning_ his wife and unborn child to the laps of luxury, willing to give up his _Life_ to _protect_ them.  Maybe that was why he was always so _Good_ , always so _Virtuous_ ; the only Noble who every really deserved to be called _Noble_.  _He_ had something to **Fight** for, _he_ had something to _lose_.

 

It hit him hard when it happened, when we received _the News_.  We were camped out in a rocky clearing on a small moon that was being pillaged by a troop of Cyclops.  He had just been promoted to Colonel, and I his Command Sergeant Major.  We were discussing **Battle Strategy** when the _Golden Hind_ sent down a messenger.  I remember how _strange_ that seemed.  It was rare for the Starship to have need to inform us of anything after we **Deployed** , they were merely the transport as we **Served** our **Purpose** _dictated_ by the Tsar’s War Generals.  Besides, any pressing concerns could be translated through the Moon Crystal kept _safe_ in the Colonel’s Tent (magic really was a wonderful thing).  It was even more of a _shock_ when the ship’s Captain was the one to appear out of the Transport Light, not some lowly Ensign still taking his licks.  I could tell from the Colonel’s posture, the way his knuckles turned bone white as he _gripped_ the handle of his Sword, that something was _Wrong_.

 

I’ve never seen a man more

_Br     ._

_. ok_

_en   ._

.                    before.

 

In the end, he did receive a Medal of Honor for singlehandedly freeing those people from the Cyclops threat; but at the time, I do _Believe_ all he wanted was to **Die**.  At least his daughter survived the **Attack** ( _she_ was the only thing that always kept him **Strong** ), even if his wife wasn’t so _lucky_.  At the Award Ceremony, in amongst all the grandeur and opulence of the Tsar’s Crystal Palace, I _knew_ the only thing on his mind, the only thing he could comprehend, was how much he _Wished_ he could trade that _inane_ **Medal** , along with all the **Honors** he would ever receive and his _entire_ **Military Career** , just to see his wife _Alive_ again.

 

He stopped smiling after that.

 

Yet in spite of all this, all the _pain_ and _regret_ , we went back out, back into **Battle**.  After swearing our **Oaths** and pledging our **Loyalty** , we took to the Stars, this time as Major General and Brigadier.  We _scoured_ the endless V o i d , intent on _cleansing_ the Cosmos of Dream Pirates, and _erasing_ all **Darkness** from innocent Hearts.   _Revenge_ was the only thing on our minds; _he_ for his wife, and I for _him_.

 

We found it hard to _Believe_ when it all finally came to an _end._  When we actually **_WON_**.  All those years **Fighting** , all those lives _lost_ and suddenly, everything was just… _done_.  No more Cadets to _train_ , no more Shadows to **Fight** , no more **Battles** to _win_.  No more _worries_.  At last, everything… _everyone_ , was _safe_.

 

Suddenly, I had nowhere to go.  No home or family to speak of.  So, once again, I followed the General.  I ended up living on his estate for almost a year, through the parties and parades and endless festivities.  Although it wasn’t because I was still poor, I had amassed a small fortune of my own being a **Hero** of **the Great War** ( _that’s_ what they’re calling it now, as if **War** could be _Great_ ).  But after being together for so many years, living apart just felt… _Wrong_.  Everyone was finally at ease, and even though the _nightmares_ would still come and the _fear_ would grip at our Hearts, we were content.

 

We should have _known_ it wouldn’t last.  Peace never does.

 

We had managed to **Kill** the Monsters and _imprison_ their Phantom remains, we had trapped all the **EVILS** of the universe inside a single jail cell, and the Prison needed a Warden.  I _pleaded_ with him, _begged_ him, to let _me_ go, let _me_ be the one who this burden fell upon.  But he just shook his head, and said it was an **Honor**.  An **Honor** to be _chosen_ , an **Honor** to be _trusted_ , an **Honor** to do what needed _done_.  An **Honor** the Tsar had given _him_ to bear.  I would have gone with him if I could.  If the Crypt needed watching then surely two guards would provide better security than only one (and at the very least a little company to distract from an eternity wandering bleak catacomb halls); but he gave me a **Job** , an **Order** , one last **Command** to his most _trusted_ subordinate.  For, even if he was a **Soldier** who would give his _life_ to defend _Good_ , he still had a _daughter_ to care for.

 

So I took _my_ **Burden**.  I let _him_ go down into that Dungun of Shadows, with nothing but his sword and a golden locket, while _I_ stayed above in the light.  _I_ watched as his daughter grew.  _I_ saw her learn to dance and sing and play the piano.  Every day, _I_ looked after her as she drank her tea, and laughed with her friends, and tended her garden.  _I_ watched her become a woman, and when the boys came calling, it was _I_ who chased them with away with the threat of my blade.  In his absence, _I_ raised his daughter for him.  And the only thing I could think of was how _Wrong_ it all felt.

 

We wrote to him, his daughter and I, we told him _everything_.  About the visitors we had and the goings-on of the court, whether it rained that day or if that night the moon would be full.  She wrote to him of how she lost her last baby tooth, of the pain she felt when she broke her arm, of anything that made her _sad_.  I wrote to him of his family’s investments, of the birth of the Prince, of my _fears_ of letting him down.  Both of us wrote of how we _Wished_ he was there.  We’ll never know if he ever received any of those letters (some I hope he didn’t), for after the Crypt was closed, _nothing_ was supposed to escape.

 

But it was _folly_ to think that all **EVIL** could be _contained_ , that _fear_ could be **Conquered**.  We’re _paying_ for that dim notion now, paying for our _Mistake_ , and we _deserve_ every minute of it.  _We_ who gave the commands and passed on the orders, _We_ who followed the edicts of men who never saw a **Battlefield** , or even the outside of their crystal spheres, _We_ deserve to watch as our brightest _Hope_ tares us   asunder.

 

 _She_ deserves none of this.  That precious little girl who _lost_ her father to **War** long before he died, _she_ did _nothing_ to warrant the _Horror_ of being Sentry as **Darkness** extinguishes all _Hope_.    **Darkness** that now takes the visage of her _father_.

 

 

 

It’s been several hours now.  She should be far way from here, hidden safe aboard the _Moonclipper_ , _protected_ by the same **Guards** who watch over the Tsar and his family.  We did our **Job** , we gave them _time_.  Even though the Shadows have moved on, taking to their own vessel in _desperation_ to follow what’s left of the Brightest Light, their greatest **Enemy**... they won’t be able to catch them.

 

It’s strange… being able to _smile_ , being so _content_.  You wouldn’t think it possible, surrounded by so much **Death** and **Destruction** … knowing your end is _nigh_.  I can feel the _hole_ in my chest, that bleeding e m p t i n e s s.   It doesn’t hurt, not anymore… but I can still _feel_ it there.  I can _see_ it happening too, as if I’m not _me_ , but a spectator watching some g _ruesome_ sport.  I can see _It_ , the Monster, the Shadow of the General ( _my_ General) raising its grisly scythe  high above _Its_ head,  cragged teeth on display, sharp between cracked lips, golden eyes _alight_.  I can see _It_ bringing the **Blade** down, ~~tearing~~ through _metal_ and _flesh_ , painting the ground with another fresh coat of **Blood** , creating a hOle that will never be filled.  Only _Rage_  is written on _Its_  demented features.  I can see my body,  falling, _plummeting_ to the earth, I want to _reach out_ , to _catch_ myself, but there is _nothing_ I can do.  My body  collapses on the hard wet ground where I now lay.  That Monster steps over me, not even bothering to glance down, and I know, I _know_ , I am _Nothing_ to him, just another _Faceless_ **Soldier** standing between him and his Prize.

 

It’s silent now.  Most of the Fearlings have gone, with their **Battle** _won_ , only those who feed on the dying man’s _fears_ are left behind.  But they will find _no_ sustenance in me.  It’s so very silent… or maybe my ears have just stopped working.  Suddenly I’m overcome with the urge to _laugh_ (I don’t know why I find it so funny), and I suppose I would… if only I could breath.

 

I can see the **Darkness** coming in now, starting at the edge of my Vision, soon it will overtake me.  I look up at the _Stars_ , it’s not Night (the Asteroid Base where we chose to make our **Last Stand** has no Sun, and thus no Day or Night) but the Sky is _full_ of them.  So many Stars… so many points of light… one could spend the rest of their _Life_ counting all of those Stars. 

 

She was up there now, among those Pinpricks, and that Monster could chase her for the rest of eternity, but she would always have a Star to go to, a _safe_ place to hide.

 

I try to count them, those little Beacons of _Hope_ , but it’s hard… so _very_ hard.  I can’t move my head, and I don’t think I even have the energy to blink.  I _believe_ I make to twenty before it becomes too difficult to concentrate and I _lose_ my place.  I try again, but I can’t seem to remember what comes after five, so instead I just… _stare_.  Stare at _all_ that light that shines down on a world _de_ _st_ _ro_ _ye_ _d_ by **D** **arkness**.

 

Soon my Vision begins to _blur_ , and slowly the Dots mergeandcombine.  The Sky is now _filled_ with Stars, a blinding sheet of Light that stretches for all e t e r n i t y …  I _stare_ , and even if I could turn away, I _know_ I wouldn’t.  The Light is everywhere now, and I _understand_ that it will be alright… that _she_ will be _safe_ … that there’s nothing to _worry_ about anymore.  I go on _staring_ , and I watch as darkness is extinguished, and All of Existence is _consumed_ by blinding…

 

 

white…

 

 

 

 

LIGHT.

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is. Told you it was depressing, or maybe not. The formatting might make a lot of difference, the end was supposed to slowly fade to white and "DARKNESS" was supposed to diminish throughout the entire thing. Oh well, you can only do so much.
> 
> Tell me what you think and we can share a box of tissues.


End file.
